


From wedding bells to private hells

by redlipsredledger



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashed Natasha, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint didn't ever marry Laura or even know her, Cryofreeze (Marvel), Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Hurt Clint Barton, Hydra, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Minor Clint Barton/Bobbi Morse, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha needs saving, No Bucky Barnes Cryo After Civil War, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Red Room (Marvel), Shadows still kill, Very AU, everyone has secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/redlipsredledger
Summary: It should be nice to be free of his captors, it should be nice to have free will and be able to do whatever he wants with his life but it isn't. Bucky Barnes recognises a face on a screen and he starts to remember a pain he'd long since forgotten and a future that went up in smoke...He's free, she isn't. When did their lives get so turned around? He's no hero but she needs saving and through impossible odds, Bucky Barnes must figure out just how far he'll go to save the woman he loves while keeping his secret, he knows he'll die for her but maybe it's reminding her what she has to live for that'll make her fight. He swore a long time ago that his heart was hers and now ripped away from him and exposed to the darker sides of the world again he understands now that true pain isn't lost years, true pain is watching someone you love lose themselves all over again when they fought so hard to be free.[see notes please!]
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 11





	1. From up in lights to up in smoke

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't based on any particular universe it picks and draws from whatever I had in my head at the time. I had major writers block lately and this was just a freewrite that I sat down and started to make my stupid brain work because I have a lot going on in life right now that's been causing me all kinds of problems, I didn't know what the heck the plot was and still don't entirely until I'd gotten to the end of this chapter so! Hopefully you'll enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated I feel like I'm losing my touch tbh.

"Are you okay, man?" 

The voice sounded quiet and concerned; he could tell he his best friend was second guessing whether or not he should've asked which was something that would've made him smirk and make some quip or another under any other circumstances but not today, he hadn't realised that he'd caused anyone any concern.

He smiled despite himself because what use was it to do anything else?

No one would possibly understand what he was going through even if he knew how to begin to explain it and so he smiled even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. A small sigh broke his lips and he nodded his head.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Long day." Deflecting was something he was very good at.

His palm was placed against the glass window that went from the floor to the ceiling offering far more light than he would've liked on any other day but today the sunset outside offered him a distraction. It reminded him that the world didn't have to be cold anymore, at least not wholly.

The world was indeed cold and his lacked light even if he was pretending otherwise. It wasn't supposed to be cold anymore, he was supposed to have been saved from pain when he'd been rescued from the hell that had made up decades of his life. It didn't feel like he'd been saved but he couldn't say that out loud.

It was his secret, his pain. Memories were torment to a man like him. He was getting everything back in waves and some felt like they were drowning him. A part of him longed for the lost oblivion that came with being wiped away because he wouldn't have to live with the torturous absence that bled right through to his very soul.

"You sure?" His friend pressed anyway, he inhaled a breath and nodded again.

For just a beat he considered telling him that he wasn't okay at all and letting the pain inside of him spill out like a tipped glass of wine red and raw like blood but he wouldn't. He looked with a sideways glance to his fingers splayed out on the glass before he pulled his hand back and flexed his fingers before he shoved his hand back into his pocket. 

"Yeah, honestly I'm good. What's up?" He was glad he was trained to lie. He sounded convincing.

"Nothing, I uh, just wondered how you were doing. You've been quiet all day." 

He supposed he had, he hadn't meant to be. It had been a long day though he supposed it would've been, he hadn't slept in two days. The signs were showing he was sure of it but no one had mentioned it out of what he guessed was politeness or maybe they just didn't want to pry. People still walked on eggshells when it came to him and it hadn't been something that really bothered him much lately. He was glad for it if anything.

"Okay well, if you need anything?" Steve offered with a sincere tone.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." A tight lipped smile was all he could manage.

The tiredness was starting to seep into his voice but he couldn't sleep. Every time he tried to sleep he was haunted by nightmares and by memories that were unbearably painful, death would've been preferable if he was going to be honest with himself. Death was peaceful, it was a break from the ghosts and the faces that haunted him awake or asleep but no one haunted him more than she did.

His breath hitched in his throat at the very thought of it. He was pained in a way that he couldn't even begin to explain but his expression must've faltered and his bravado must've momentarily failed because his best friend looked toward him with a furrowed brow and a hand touched his shoulder, an attempt to be reassuring he was sure but it wasn't working.

"Buck?" Steve questioned softly. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged off his hand and he took a few steps backwards and shook his head. 

"Nothing, just bad memories I guess." It was easy to brush everything off with those few simple words because everyone knew how much of a mess his brain was.

Bad memories, haunted images that tore him apart inside of his mind but none of them knew the extent of it. They knew what they'd been told or what they'd found out from what little information was available out there or the small tidbits that he'd told them himself but they didn't know anything he didn't want them to know. He didn't trust anyone quite as completely as he should.

He felt bad for that, he was certain these people deserved more from him than that, especially Steve. Steve deserved better but he couldn't bring himself to open up about _that_. His eyes cast to the side; he couldn't meet his best friends eyes and lie to him, not even he was that cruel. He could, he'd certainly been trained and taught well enough to do it without flinching but he wasn't supposed to be that person anymore.

His chest rose and fell in shakier movements than he'd intended with shorter breaths.

It almost seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack. No, there was no almost about it, he was.

He pushed his way past his friend and to the door at the end of the hallway which was pushed open with more force than necessary and he fell out into the wide open space of the outside world and immediately he bowed, his hands resting just above his knees as he fought for breath. He could feel the pounding in his ears, the dizzying sense that came with shortness of breath, the screaming and shouting in his head was unbearable and he shook his head vehemently.

This couldn't be happening. 

The world around him was spinning so fast for a moment as he dragged in one deep breath after another but none of it was making him feel any better, nothing was steadying him and nothing was changing the way that he felt for even a second. He felt like he'd been punched clean in the stomach, a wave of nausea hit him like a train and he fell to his knees on the grass in front of him.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

The footsteps behind him were ignored until he felt a hand touch his shoulder again and he jerked forward.

"Don't touch me." He sounded so unsteady, weaker than he'd sounded in decades. "Please just-"

Not right now. Please. He'd have preferred it if this never happened at all but he supposed he was asking for trouble even coming in here today. He should've just stayed at home and he knew it. At least his pain would've stayed private that way. His mouth felt horribly dry, his breathing wouldn't steady at all and he couldn't stop the world from spinning.

He could see the man he called his best friend stood just a little to the left of him out of the corner of his eye and he could see how worried he looked and how lost he clearly was but there was nothing he could do to help him. There was nothing _anyone_ could do to help him.

It was minutes, minutes that felt like hours before he unsteadily rose to his feet and he stumbled, his best friend reached for him to help but he once again pulled away like the touch burned him. He just shook his head. 

"Please leave me alone." He sounded all but pleading.

His voice desperate and cracking. He didn't want to have to explain it because he knew just how close he was to breaking. One tap, one question asked in just the right way and his defenses would break and he'd tell his side of a story that was already painful for many people here.

His best friend backed off, he looked hurt and that provoked an apologetic look. He straightened himself out and inhaled a deep breath.

"I'm sorry I just um- sometimes it all gets too much, y'know? I guess not sleeping isn't helping..." 

Steve nodded, he looked like he understood but he knew there was no way in hell he ever could, no one could. Each person dealt with their pain in a different way, they didn't need his on top of it all. 

"I need to go home and sleep, I'll be okay." Lie. Total lie.

His best friend seemed to believe it though because he nodded his head and told him it was a good idea to go home and sleep it off. He sighed and nodded simply because there was little all else he could do.

Home was the only place he could feel his pain, home was the only place he didn't have to lie or hide.

* * *

_Three weeks ago:_

He had only just been brought in, it had been a matter of days when he'd found himself wandering into one of the conference rooms and every single person turned to look at him. Barton - who was halfway through a sentence - turned around to reach out a hand and swipe the information that had been there moments before away.

It didn't matter though he'd seen enough when he saw her face, he recognised it... he could swear he recognised it he just couldn't place where or _why_. Maybe it had been a past mission and he'd figure it out eventually but that didn't feel right. That thought didn't feel right. He'd tried and tried to work it out and hadn't gotten anywhere with it but for the rest of the week he'd just brushed it off until the dreams he was having became impossible to ignore.

It had taken him a whole hell of a lot of internal debate with himself before he decided to ask Steve who she was, he hadn't planned on Barton being there but apparently they had something or another to deal with, once again he'd been told 'not to worry about it' which had made him roll his eyes at them both. He shook his head, their business wasn't what he was here for and so, Bucky sighed.

"I wasn't gonna ask you what you were doing." He muttered. "I wanted to ask you about the girl..."

Both turned to look at him with a look of utter confusion. He shifted awkwardly. 

"The one from last week, you had her picture up. Who is she?" He looked down at his feet as he spoke.

He flicked his eyes up as they exchanged a look between the two of them, Barton looked wounded and Steve looked saddened. He felt bad for asking, he was just about to tell them it didn't matter when Barton released a sigh.

"Natasha." Clint spoke the name with agony in his voice. "Her name is Natasha."

Steve glanced at Clint who had both hands balled into fists tight enough to have his knuckles turning white. His face was contorted with a look of pain that he hadn't seen anyone wear in a long time. His mind flashed back to something again, decades ago and he knew it was. She was screaming, begging, she sounded so desperate and he fought like hell against the restraints as he apologised over and over again. He could barely breathe as he watched the scene unfold in his mind. His hand shot out toward the wall to steady himself and he took a step back.

Both Clint and Steve looked confused. Bucky shook his head and passed it off as a headache before he asked Clint to continue because he clearly wanted to say _something._ He clearly wanted to answer the question he'd been asked with more than the five words he'd spoken so far.

"She was - is - my best friend. About a year and a half ago she was captured by a Russian government program called-" Clint didn't get the chance to finish.

Bucky did it for him.

"The Red Room." The words were whispered.

Bucky pulled his hand away from the wall and released a sigh. That was where he knew her, her name back then hadn't been Natasha though. Her name back then had been Natalia and he'd trained her, he'd taught her to fight and to survive but more than that he'd _loved_ her. How could he have forgotten that? They really had taken away everything from him over the years but that was probably the most agonising.

"I need to go I-" He needed to get out of here. He looked around like the walls were closing in on him.

That was how it felt. 

"No." Barton spoke almost too quickly. "How do you know that? How do you know about that place?"

He could tell the cogs inside of Barton's mind were turning and he wanted to understand what the hell had just happened and how he'd known exactly what he was talking about without him even saying anything. No explanation he could offer would put his mind at ease or tell him that she was safe, she wasn't. She was in more danger than any of them could comprehend but they were in more danger than she was. He was surprised they weren't dead by now.

"They had me work with them years ago. I trained a recruit there she was their best. Beautiful, smart, arrogant but strong. They had me train her and work with her for a little while on some missions." He shrugged then as though to imply that was all he wanted to say on it.

He tried to act like that was all there was to it and there was nothing else to say on the matter but neither Barton or Steve were willing to let it go at that and he could see it just by watching their body language and their expressions. 

"What?" He looked between the two of them. "What do you wanna know?"

"Did you know her when she was there?" Steve asked gently.

Bucky shook his head though. No, he didn't know her. He couldn't bring himself to go into that pain yet. He couldn't bring himself to talk about any of it when he had to work through it all himself. His memories were scattered, fractured at best and none of them made any sense right now. He got flashes, different days, different times but none of them lined up and none of them were solid enough for him to pin anything down.

"I don't think so. I don't remember." 

"You asked who she was." Barton pressed.

Bucky watched the way Steve shot him a glare but the man stood defiant. He almost admired Clint Barton's defiant determination, he hadn't spent a great deal of time with the man but he'd fought for him once without knowing him so he had to give him thanks for that at least.

"Yeah well, I've seen a lot of faces over the years. I've seen her before right? She was with you that day?" He looked to Steve as he spoke.

"Yeah she was." The day that he'd first seen Steve again after all those years, he'd tried to kill them both.

"Well there's your answer." He looked at Barton now. "That's where I recognised her from."

Lie. It was all a lie but how could he begin to explain any of it to any of them when he didn't understand any of it himself. She was something else or at least to him. She had been once anyway, the two of them had been far closer than just some girl that he'd trained once but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to go into any of that. It explained the nightmares though, it explained why he kept seeing her face in his mind over and over. It explained why she was the fleeting sense of peace he had in amongst all of that hell.

It would explain a whole hell of a lot... Especially the emptiness he felt inside of him. The emptiness was the absence of someone that meant the world to him, it explained why everything felt dark and cold: Her.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Barton sounded almost disappointed.

"You're trying to find her, aren't you?" His question was directly to Clint now. Clint who clearly wanted some help or another and seemed disappointed in no one having the ability to provide it.

Clint nodded. Bucky felt a pang of guilt. He could see she meant a great deal to him and that - while curious - made him feel bad for it. Best friend, that was what he'd said right? It was good that she'd had friends. It was good that Clint and Steve both cared for her, she didn't deserve to be alone. He didn't want to see her alone.

"Yeah. We gotta try right? I helped her once I can help her again." Clint sounded almost desperate as he spoke. A sort of hopeful kind of desperate.

Bucky almost pitied him. If they'd taken her back there after she'd gotten out what they'd done to her this time around would be far worse than what it was before if she was even still alive. If she was even still alive what remained of her would be nowhere near the person that they knew. She'd be buried there somewhere but it'd be like it was for him: she'd be buried so deeply that even that small part of her would start to believe she'd never break free again.

He knew how that felt all too well. He knew what they'd have done to her. 

"You-" He thought about his words carefully, he sighed. "That _isn't_ a good idea, man." 

It wasn't, it was a terrible idea and one that might very well end with the overly idealistic man meeting a rather unpleasant end but he could see why he'd want to save his best friend. He obviously seemed to believe that he could reach through to her and he admired that. It reminded him of Steve only Steve didn't have to literally wade into a world of shadows where every single person you encountered could - and probably would - kill you. 

"Yeah well she came for me when I needed it so I ain't leaving her out there alone."

"It's been over a year, how do you know she's even alive?" The words tasted bitter in his mouth and burned like acid.

He fought for composure with clenched fists and a set jaw. He was nowhere near as cool on the inside as he appeared outwardly.

"We got some intel, we were going through it all when you came in. She hasn't been easy to find but-" Barton shifted from one foot to the other.

Poor son of a bitch. Every ounce of him was screaming at him to help. To help to find her and bring her home again because leaving her out there to the mercy of monsters was cruel and it was never what she deserved. She was always better than them she just made the mistake of thinking he was, too.

"How'd it happen? How'd they take her in?" He was almost afraid he'd regret asking. "She wouldn't be easy to find, we're trained not to let anyone find a trace of us unless we want them to." 

"She went off on her own, said she had something she needed to find and next we know she's assassinated an Italian diplomat then drops off the map for a few weeks and then takes out his wife and kids. That ain't Natasha. It didn't take too long to figure out they'd taken her in. Every op we've heard about since has been nothing but blood and death. She even took shots at some friends of hers. She's not herself." 

Not herself, that was one way to put it. Bucky sighed but nodded his head anyway. It had been deliberate then, they'd done something to lure her in and take her back because there was no way in hell that anyone would go back to that willingly. He guessed that they knew very little about what had actually happened to her which told him that they were in one hell of a mess and one that they couldn't possibly understand the depth of, Barton thought he knew about that world and that he understood it at least to a degree but he was about to be proved very wrong.

Clint Barton knew nothing at all about the kinds of shadows and monsters that existed in those worlds, hers or his alike they were nothing short of hell and Clint Barton knew about as much of hell as Bucky Barnes knew about being human no matter how much he might protest otherwise, yes he'd reached through to her once but he knew that they'd bury her deep this time and they'd make everyone that loved her suffer terribly if they came for her.

"Well you obviously need help so I guess I'm probably your best hope, right? I know that world. I know where to look or at least where to start, I'll try to remember as much I can about the facilities, places I know they operated out of and I'll tell you what I know just give me time. I'll try to figure out what I can. I'll help you however I can." He offered Clint Barton a weak smile.

And immediately regret offering at all. Wading into that hell was going to hurt, wading into that hell and risking losing her forever was unbearable. He knew the only option was to bring her out of it but that was going to take the kinds of extremes he swore he'd never face again.

* * *

Research had been exhausting, he'd purposely pulled his mind apart over and over again to find something - anything - that'd help them find her though he didn't know if any of it would help he'd endured all of the pain that came along with it gladly at just the chance it would.

Barton - he'd learned - was hotheaded and wanted to march in immediately but it wasn't possible. It was stupid and foolish to think that it could work at all and he knew that it'd just end in pain if they did. He'd end up getting his dumb ass killed marching in like a stubborn child.

He understood Clint felt like he was failing Natasha by standing by and doing nothing but strategy and careful planning were going to be what got all of them through this and the only way that they stood even _half_ a chance of saving her life. Running in there without a plan was just going to end in someone dying when no one needed to. If Barton wanted to get himself killed and thought they were going to stand by and allow it to happen, he was seriously wrong.

He'd had the same argument with him now for over two weeks, why weren't they doing something, why was none of the information they'd found out actionable, why could no one come up with a plan to save her... It was the same thing over and over again and it was starting to drive him insane but he wasn't going to do anything until they'd come up with something solid.

No one was going to die on his watch, no one. Especially not her best friend. Bringing her back wouldn't count for much if everything she'd held to all these years was gone. He hated every damn second of this, it was nothing short of the worst sort of agony he could imagine but he wasn't going to say that. He couldn't say that. No one knew about what she meant to him and they couldn't either. It wasn't relevant to this and it'd complicate things more than any of them had time for now...

Right now the only thing that mattered was hoping his intel panned out and that the raid tonight wouldn't get every single one of them killed or end in her death... None of those options were acceptable but Clint Barton and Steve Rogers didn't understand what they were coming face to face with and he did, he did and it terrified him.


	2. I think there's a flaw in my code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you realise you're being led into a trap and you watch the person you came here to save be shot and you're able to do nothing but watch her body fall to the floor?
> 
> Can you still fight?

Facilities like this were always well guarded but with three determined men it took very little time at all for them to dispatch with the majority of the security, Steve had asked that they only kill when absolutely necessary because the boy scout still didn't want to hurt anyone.

Bucky and Clint - reluctantly - abided with his wishes, neither of them cared all that much for the lives of those inside of this place especially not Bucky, Barton had some kind of moral compass even if it was a little on the uncertain side but Bucky didn't share that sentiment, not for people like this anyway. It took all of his restraint not to go against Steve's wishes and killing every single son of a bitch he saw but he knew he'd need his strength to face off with the woman he loved.

He had a sinking feeling that they were being led to something, lured and being toyed with almost like they'd expected them to come and he was proved right as they entered a wide open space that could only be described as a storage area, it was open with crates scattered here or there around the room. It was like they were rats in a maze being led to the middle for slaughter. He wouldn't make that easy. It was eerie.

Three people stood on a slightly elevated platform with a door behind them that he supposed led back into the facility. She stood off to the left and a man to the right that Bucky didn't know, stood in the middle though was Archady Mazkinov. He has been a part of the program for the past decade or two and he'd risen fast and gained favor for his crude, heartless methods and his willingness to push their operatives to do terrible things for great sums of money, he didn't care how many died out there. He was probably the coldest man he'd ever met. He watched all three of them with a sick amusement on his features and his eyes cast sideways toward Natalia.

He held out a gun to her and she took it like the good little soldier they'd programmed her to be, she regarded them with a cold indifference as she raised her gun but didn't point it at any of them in particular, she merely raised it in a bored manner and aimed at nothing specific; she hadn't been ordered to focus on a specific target but if any of them moved she'd shoot them dead. It was in her training, she'd do it without blinking too.

He stood and watched every movement she made and he held to his spot; he glanced quickly at Barton whose demeanor immediately changed the moment he watched his best friend, Bucky could see that he wanted to say something to her but he shook his head. It was a bad idea right now.

Archady reached to put his hand on her shoulder and ushered her forward a few steps. He had the sort of wicked smile he had seen many wear over the years when they had the upperhand in whatever sick little cat and mouse game they were playing at the time. He always did like to toy with people. He'd seen him rip apart many an operative much like Natasha over the years he'd been here because he thought that they were weak. He didn't care for anything.

"Now Natalia, be polite and say hello to your husband." He spoke like a snake. Cold and coiled and his words directed with intention to cause as much damage as he could.

The words cut through him like a red hot knife through butter, Steve and Clint traded confused looks and both of them turned their eyes toward the tensed soldier who said nothing, he didn't look at either one of them but he could feel their eyes burning into him. He much care for anything but her right now.

"You two have been married for, hm. How long has it been now?" Hs was mocking them, Bucky just as much as his controlled asset.

"Fifty, sixty years?" Manipulation, that was all this was. He was trying to provoke a reaction.

"So many lost years, it's a shame isn't it." He was toying with them like a twisted child.

"Sixty two years." she answered automatically. She sounded cold; there was no emotion at all in her voice.

He wondered if she remembered that on her own or if indeed he was right and they were being lured here and he'd known they were coming so he'd allowed certain things about their past to be a part of her new programming.

If the latter was true then they were in an immeasurable amount of trouble here and this was far worse than anything they'd expected here and worse still than facing her here like this.

He'd remembered that a few days ago but again he'd opted not to say anything to either Steve or Clint. They didn't need to know his personal connections to her. It wouldn't help with any of this. It'd just raise questions and waste time better spent going over their plans to save her. He couldn't deny that it was a blow that had hurt though.

Archady naturally noticed the look of pain on his features and he laughed and shook his head disapprovingly. All they were to him were toys he didn't particularly want and so he sought to destroy them instead.

"You were trained better, Soldat. You're acting like a wounded dog." He spat. "You're a disgrace."

"Don't." Bucky spoke through a tightly clenched jaw. 

Why the fuck did he have to use that? It made the cold indifference in her stare all that much harder to endure. Steve's orders not to kill were decidedly forgotten.

"Natalia please, let me help you." He sounded strong and determined despite not feeling it at all.

If he focused on anyone but her he was going to end up doing something stupid. He fought for the discipline that they'd instilled into him now because it was faltering and he was acting with emotion and that was dangerous. That was what got people killed.

Clint took a step forward and Buckys arm shot out to stop him dead in his tracks because immediately her gun was pointed at Clints head. He shook his head as if to tell the archer not to get involved and say anything but Clint was stubborn. He ignored Bucky completely and looked at Natasha.

"Tasha c'mon it's me, we came out here to help you. I helped you before, okay? We can get through this together." 

She laughed at him. She cocked the gun and rolled her eyes. She wouldn't shoot unless she was ordered because she knew if she did there'd be punishment, she was to obey her masters, she wasn't to have thought or feeling of her own. That was forbidden. If she acted on her own she'd endure whatever punishment her current master doled out and Bucky knew it'd be brutal and far worse than such a little mistake would've deserved.

"Shoot him." The words slipped her masters lips and immediately she took her shot.

Not quite quick enough. Barton was knocked to the floor as Bucky's foot swung out and took the back of Clint's knee. The shot hit the crate behind him and now her gun was on him. Pointed dead at his heart. He laughed this time and held out his arms. Steve took a defensive posture and spoke her name almost like it was somewhere between pleading and a reluctant warning. He held his shield in front of him. Barton shot a glare momentarily at Bucky before muttering a thank you as Steve helped him to his feet.

Barnes wasn't paying attention to either one of them, as far as he was concerned neither of them were there. None of them really mattered unless this went to shit fast. If it did, he'd change that quick because they'd be the immediate targets of every single person in this room with a gun, her included.

"Do it. We both know I'm dead if you kill her anyway." That bastard was right, he was acting like a wounded dog. He wasn't acting like the soldier they'd trained.

Good. That man wouldn't be able to reach through to her. It needed something _better_ than that. It needed _him_ to be better than that.

"You kill her and there's nothing left for me so do it. If doing it keeps her alive do it." 

Archady raised a brow at Bucky's words.

"And what's to stop me killing you both?" He sounded bored. Son of a bitch.

He was cold, callous. He didn't care about anyone, once they'd outlived their uses to him they'd end up dead but Bucky knew better. He knew once she took that shot something inside of her would snap. He was always her weakness and she was always his. It'd bring her around... Or at least he hoped it would. If it did, he was fine with dying. If it saved her he was fine being the price paid for that.

"I don't know." He answered indifferently. He wasn't going to say a damn thing about his theory.

His eyes cast to Natasha and for the first time in weeks he smiled and he nodded his head at her.

"It's alright sweetheart. You gotta do it if he tells you, okay? Don't you dare hesitate." _Don't you dare hesitate._

He'd told her that years ago. He'd made her promise if they ever came face to face and he wasn't in control and she knew he'd kill her she had to take the shot first. If she got the upperhand and she could, she had to. She promised.

_If it ever comes to it promise me, promise me you'll do it. I'd rather die than kill you. Don't you dare hesitate, Natalia. I wouldn't be able to live with killing you._

_And I couldn't if I killed you!_

_You can. You were always the strongest one outta the two of us. You gotta do it because you know I love you. You know that it won't matter, I'll always be with you._

It had taken him days to convince her, days of reasoning. She was the strongest one out of the two of them but what they did to him and how far they shoved him deep down was a hell of a lot more extensive because they needed a mindless killing machine with him. They didn't need him for even _half_ of the things they made her do. The thought of that made him clench his fists, that thought bothered him a whole hell of a lot more than the mess he was in now.

He glanced over his shoulder at Barton and Rogers. He could see that Steve was calculating the best way to handle the situation - Steve was strategic, he always had been - and Barton trying to work out who the hell to shoot to make this over as quickly as possible. Both of them were bad ideas.

"Stay outta this, I got it."

His eyes fell on her again. He looked calm, at least when he was looking at her. When his eyes turned to anyone else he looked nothing short of furious. Her hand flexed on the handle of the gun and she almost dropped it. She was faltering. The hint of a smile touched his lips. He nodded. 

"It's okay." He promised. He kept her gaze.

This wouldn't bring back the version of her that Steve and Clint knew but it'd reach through to the version of her that _he_ knew, or at least he hoped it would. It could just be a momentary flicker. A fleeting thing that stopped within seconds but he hoped it wouldn't.

"Kill him." Archady waved his hand dismissively, he was bored now. "Kill them all."

Him making her do it was predictable. He wanted her to feel it once she actually had a moment to try to break through her programming and she would, Natasha was strong. She had always been too defiant to stay under and it was part of the reason they'd been so hard on her. It was a part of the reason they'd made tearing them apart so brutal. He could see that Clint didn't want to follow his orders but Steve nodded and placed his hand on Bartons shoulder as though he was asking him to give Bucky a chance.

He might not understand it but he was asking him to do it anyway. He was just as bewildered as Clint was but he saw both of them take defensive stances out of the corner of his eye, they were prepared to take some kind of action if this got any worse. She had just been ordered to kill them after all. She flicked her gun to Steve then to Clint and then back to him. He was the only one out out the three of them that _didn't_ look afraid. 

He was the only one that was willing to take the damn bullet if that was what it took to snap her out of this even a little bit.

"You have a choice, Tasha." Barton.

Shut the hell up! Bucky glared at him over his shoulder. She took a blind shot at the crate behind Clints head. It sent the contents of the crate cascading toward the floor which landed with a series of crashes and clangs but he didn't bother to pay any attention to it. He watched the hand that moved to grip the top of her arm tightly and she was pulled roughly back and informed if she didn't kill them, she'd die. A gun was subsequently pointed at her head.

If that was a game he wanted to play he wouldn't win. Bucky was faster than he was. He'd been trained to be faster than anyone else in this whole facility even her. They'd kept him well trained for a damn good reason and he'd remind them right now of that without blinking. Again, Bucky held her gaze. She didn't look _quite_ as empty as she had before. Good. There was still something in there of the girl he'd known all those years ago.

She hesitated. She remembered something.

Everything went from under one persons control and then to no ones in less than one second. A loud bang rang out and she dropped to the floor right before the man stood to the right of her did her did the very same and everything just _stopped_ for a second.

All of a sudden the world went still and quiet and the weight of it was crushing to all three of them, they watched her body fall to the floor like it was happening in slow motion, the thud as she hit the ground was almost deafening. Each heartbeat sounded so loud. He couldn't breathe. His eyes slipped to Clint Barton who let out a loud sound of agony.

Clint shouted loud, he sounded devastated and broken whereas Steve could say nothing at all. Bucky let off two shots that took out the two men stood on the balconies above them with rifles trained either side of Clint and Steve. One shot each and they'd both be dead. Clint watched with horrified widened eyes and Steve stood motionless rooted to the spot like all of a sudden everything had just stopped making sense.

He was angry. He was fucking angry as hell and yet for what felt like forever he couldn't take his eyes off of her still form laid there on the floor with blood splattered on the wall behind where she'd been stood. He gripped to his gun so tightly like it was the only thing stopping him from tumbling off of a cliff. He held to it like his life depended on it and something inside of him just _snapped._ He'd always said he'd be dead anyway if anything happened to her...

Well now he didn't care if he lived or died here.

"We need to get out of here." Steve spoke softly, his eyes slipped between Clint and Bucky.

Clint - snapping out of his stupor - nodded stiffly trying to hold back emotion as he took fire at a guard stood at the front right of the room. Steve's shield bounced with a clatter loud enough to echo around the room making the sound almost deafening. Bucky - in full Soldier mode - took out three more without flinching. Archady had turned and walked back through the door behind him.

Coward.

Bucky rose his gun and shot ever single guard he could see straight through the head, Steve's orders not to kill unless it was necessary long since forgotten as pain and anger flooded his mind and he focused on instinct alone, the instinct that they'd drilled into him that he had no doubt they wished that they hadn't now. Good. They wanted a mindless killing machine well they'd just ensured they'd get one. 

Three more went down to the angry soldier before he ran forward and vaulted over the railings to land on the raised steps just in front of the mans body. He would shed no tears for whomever the son of a bitch laid next to her was. He turned again as Clint shouted his name before the archer took out the threat himself and Bucky watched the mans body fall to the ground before he turned back to survey the scene before him and he fell to his knees. His hand moved to hers and he picked it up, his knees drenched in blood.

Her blood... He felt sick. He felt like he wanted to lose it but he knew that he couldn't. Even if- He couldn't leave her here. He had to get her out. He had to bring her _home_ because she deserved better than that.

Standing there feeling altogether useless and broken, all Clint could think was that everything that had happened today was nothing short of bewildering, emotional and downright distressing. He couldn't help a look at Natasha's still form on the floor and he gripped his bow tighter trying not to let it overcome what he had to do. He had to keep fighting. He had to keep going because he knew Natasha would've kicked his ass if he didn't.

"Tasha..." Clint whispered softly. "I'm sorry."

Bucky studied the woman he loved laid there still on the floor with blood pooled around her. She looked so peaceful, there wasn't a trace of agony on her features at all and he supposed that was a good thing.

He slipped his fingers to her wrist just to see if there was a pulse there almost as though he held to a hope he knew he shouldn't hold to; he still wasn't ready to let go. She was dead. She was... He'd watched her get shot. He felt her warm, soft skin beneath his hand as he found exactly what he thought he wouldn't find at all: Her heart was still beating. Natalia wasn't dead. He fell back onto his heels and he let out a sigh before he shook his head at her.

"Goddammit, Romanov." He'd known she had a flare for the dramatics but this was ridiculous.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He sounded halfway between angry and relieved. "Get the hell up!"

He pulled himself to his feet before he looked toward Steve and Clint who had both come to a stop in front of the elevated platform. His eyes cast back to her and he held out his hand to help her to her feet unsure whether to yell at her or just be relieved that she was okay. Well, she was alive. She didn't exactly seem okay. She _was_ bleeding after all.

She laughed at his words and allowed him to help her to her feet before she studied him, her eyes briefly cast toward Steve and Clint and she seemed curious about them but otherwise distant. The moment her eyes pulled back to him though she released a deep, dramatic breath. 

"I got him in the leg before he fired. He's a crappy shot." She shrugged. "They might not give me a gun unless they need someone dead but knives? Another matter entirely."

It wasn't as though the handler could always be quick enough to pass a gun if their lives were in immediate danger, knives were useful. They could be thrown and used to incapacitate people. She didn't seem all that bothered about the fact that she'd clearly caused them all distress but she did watch them all curiously before she rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

"If you're expecting an apology you aren't getting one." She stated matter-of-factly. "He got me in the shoulder, I'll be fine. It missed anything vital, you're being overdramatic."

"You scared the hell out of all of us." Bucky replied with a raised brow as he studied her. "We thought you were dead."

Her expression didn't change even slightly. She just stood as defiant as always adamant that she had nothing to apologise for no doubt. He hated the thought of her dying and for just one moment thinking that she had was enough to have him break. He was relieved beyond all doubt that she was still alive but then all three of them were.

"So does he. If he thinks I'm dead he won't expect me to kill him." She stated flatly. "You make sure you always have the upperhand, isn't that what you taught me?"

Her eyes fell to Bucky then who nodded and let out an exacerbated sigh. She was right but that didn't stop him from wanting to scream. He knew arguing with her would do no good nor would telling her that what she'd done was stupid and that she'd hurt people that cared about her because he knew right now that didn't register so it'd be useless. It wouldn't change anything and it wouldn't make her sorry for it.

She wasn't in the right frame of mind to realise that people _did_ care and that what she'd done was cold. Right now, all she knew how to do was be the soldier they'd told her to be when they'd put the programming into her head, once the programming started to wear off more she'd let go of a lot of the coldness and she'd start to feel all of this but that wouldn't happen just yet, it was too soon. Something had broken through that was still her and he supposed he had to be thankful for that.

If that was all there was, he had to be thankful for that because that meant that he could pull her out of this completely, at least pull out the version of her that he knew. He knew he could pull out who she really was but he couldn't make her go back to the person that Steve and Clint knew. He didn't know if she'd ever go back to that and that side of her wasn't one he could help her with. 

"You hesitated. We agreed you wouldn't." He scorned playfully. "You good?"

He wanted to distract all of them, to say anything that would take even a moment of the heaviness around them away. 

He knew the answer to that, she was far from it but then they all were. It was amazing that they'd all made it this far and still alive. She was fighting like hell against the programming they'd put inside of her this time which was displayed quite clearly when her clenched fist came to connect with his jaw. He staggered momentarily from the shock of it before he looked questionably toward her before the realisation hit him and he huffed out a sigh. If her hitting him was going to be what it took to take away even a moment of the rage that she felt he'd take it.

It beat her shooting him. If she wanted to hit him then fine, she wasn't killing anyone so that was a start.

She dispatched the rest of the guards without even flinching; the wound in her shoulder - despite bleeding quite a lot - seemed superficial and it didn't seem to bother her all that much. Each person she took down didn't seem to matter at all to her. She did falter though just slightly when she'd finished and she became unsteady, immediately Bucky moved to help her steady herself even though she didn't look all too thrilled about it she let him anyway. 

"It's alright." He soothed. "You're not trapped anymore. You've got me, I won't let them screw you over again." 

He wouldn't tell her she was free, he wouldn't tell her that she was free and safe because there was no guarantee he could make that true. He couldn't promise her that she was safe and he wouldn't lie to her. She deserved better than that, she wouldn't relax, she was tense and distrusting and she should be. 

"You- Why didn't I shoot you?" She demanded as moved away from him. "Why did that stop me? Why did what you said stop me?"

She sounded confused, he knew right now she was being torn apart inside. Her mind wasn't her own. She was torn between who she _was_ when he'd known her, who she was when Clint and Steve knew her and who she'd been turned into since. She was fighting and fighting hard to find which side of her was real. He wasn't sure which side was going to win out and that worried him despite the fact that he looked outwardly calm. 

If the wrong side won out there'd be nothing that could stop her from killing both Steve and Clint. She wouldn't kill him and she'd just proved that but they were a different matter entirely. He wondered if she'd harm them at all though because she hadn't killed Clint either when she'd been ordered to... That was curious. It might have just been a momentary flash though. He couldn't trust that she actually felt anything for either Clint or Steve.

What she felt for him was deeper than any of that though.

"Because it was a promise you made me when you were yourself for the first time in years, I told you never to hesitate and you told me you could never do it, you could never kill me. It was something I knew was deep, something I knew would reach you because it was the one thing you swore to me you never wanted to do. I knew it'd reach you because I knew it'd hurt."

He felt horrible for admitting that. He truly did because he knew that it'd tear open a hole inside of her but he had to do it because something had to snap her out of it. Something had to make her think twice. Something had to reach her when it seemed like nothing at all was capable of doing it.

"I knew it'd hurt enough to wake something inside of you that was real." Not some implant, not some forced persona but _her._ Really, truly her.

He knew he'd reach her if he made it personal. He knew he'd reach her if he reminded her what she'd been so afraid of happening. He knew it'd cause something inside of her to break if he reminded her of the painful promise she'd made all those years ago.

"Low blow." She muttered irately. "But thanks I guess." 

"You okay, Tasha?" Barton sounded uncertain as he spoke. It was like he didn't know how to do this.

It was like he was second guessing his ability to reach through to her this time around and he knew that was probably the smart thing to do. It was probably smart of him to doubt, it was probably smart of him to keep the air of caution he felt because right now Bucky Barnes knew she was too deeply lost to her programming to be anything _close_ to what they remembered her being but not to stop being the person that she once was. He'd never have expected the person he knew to do what she'd just done or to act like it was nothing either.

She wasn't the person he knew and that was starting to become clearer to him by the minute and he hated it but he was trying his best not to let it show. She wasn't the person that he'd been best friends with, she wasn't the person that was his partner, this was someone else entirely. A part of her reminded him of the girl she was when he'd first brought her in... She wasn't Natasha. She was... Something he didn't know or understand.

The real her. Not the SHIELD persona, not the person that they'd turned her into but the _real_ her or at least a part of it. The person that Bucky knew, the person that had been used and manipulated for most of her life but the person that had chosen love and fought for it against otherwise impossible odds. The person that had sacrificed so much and put her life on the line for him just as he had her.

She studied Clint Barton with curious green eyes. She didn't seem to know what to do with him nor did she know what to say to his words and so she just shrugged before she turned and walked back into the facility, for just a moment she looked over her shoulder to make sure that they were still behind her but she couldn't find it in her to allow herself to trust any of them. She looked toward Bucky and smiled. Just a ghost of a smile but still, she smiled.

"What now?" Steve asked quietly. He already knew he might not like the answer.

"We kill him." Natasha shrugged. "Well, _I_ kill him. You do whatever you need to do." 

She waved dismissively as she walked on ahead of the three of them. Barton - thankful for a moment to actually rant about everything that had just unfolded and vent his obvious frustrations - looked toward Barnes with narrowed eyes and a hell of pissed off look on his face. He was clearly trying to find something to do with the hurricane of emotion flooding his mind and this seemed to be how he wanted to handle it.

" _Married_? Seriously? You didn't think that was relevant?" He demanded.

"No." Bucky answered simply. "I didn't."

To him it hadn't had even an ounce of relevance to any of it. It wouldn't have helped and all it would have done was waste time. Questions were a waste of time. Questions about the past that he was trying to piece back together would do nothing but raise issues that didn't need to be raised when the only thing that mattered to him was bringing her home safely and that wasn't accomplished just yet so he still didn't much care to discuss it.

"You acted like you didn't know her."

Rolling his eyes at Clint, Bucky sighed; he'd have wanted to punch him if he didn't understand why he was so bothered by everything, it was quite the ordeal for everyone. Their history - to him - wasn't all that important, what they knew or didn't know wasn't important to absolutely any of this but it seemed to bother Barton quite a lot. Steve remained quiet but Bucky could tell that he was troubled by the whole situation but he wouldn't say anything about it until he and Bucky were alone, Steve was polite that way.

"I didn't know myself. I still don't. I don't remember _everything_ , Clint. I remember enough to know how to help her right now and how to hold on to something that probably doesn't even matter anymore so no, I didn't think telling you that over sixty years ago I married your best friend in secret so that these bastards didn't punish us both for it was relevant. Secrets sometimes save lives and the longer you're in this business the more you'll learn that: Secrets sometimes save lives. Knowing everything won't to do you any favors."

Sometimes knowing everything was more trouble than it was worth. Sometimes knowing everything would get people hurt that didn't need to be hurt. Sometimes all secrets did was turn into pain. Knowing everything was more likely to get you killed or tear you apart than anything else.

"You don't know her either." Bucky looked toward the archer speaking softer this time. "You did once. You knew who she turned into but she isn't that person now."

He figured he'd save him the pain now. Bucky studied Clint who obviously wanted to say something but fell silent in a sort of defeated manner before he nodded. He knew that Bucky was right: he didn't know who she was now. He'd only met the person she'd been before for such a short time and he'd been able to help her become someone else but this was three different people in one body fighting for control of one mind. He couldn't imagine the hell that she was going through right now.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." He replied eventually. 

"I'm gonna do what I can to help her but don't push her. All you'll do is hurt her if you push her. This person is who I knew or at least it is for now. I don't know which of the three personas she has in there right now will win out all I can do is hope it's one that I can help. If who they've turned her into wins out I don't know what'll happen. If that wins out? Run. Don't stay and try to stop her or you'll die. What they turned her into isn't anything close to human."

They were in one hell of a mess and he didn't know what was going to happen or how far down they'd shoved the person she'd become since joining SHIELD but he did know that Natalia - the girl he'd known, the real version of her - still stood a chance of making it out of this but he couldn't say the same for Natasha. All he could do was hope that whoever the hell they'd made her believe she was wasn't strong enough to win out the battle that raged inside of her right now.

He wasn't ready to lose her again.


End file.
